


o wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?

by goldentrivia



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: (and tony does NOT approve), (i wont be getting into the medical specifics because, (kind of), Anyways, Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Bucky Barnes & Tony Stark Friendship, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Shuri Friendship, Peter Parker & Wade Wilson are Best Friends, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Protective Natasha Romanov, Recovery, Thor Is Friends With Everybody, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, T’Challa (Marvel) & Bucky Barnes Friendship, T’Challa (Marvel) & Peter Parker Friendship, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier Trial, actually idk about that, and he is the most powerful avenger, being friends and having a grand old time, eh he looks out for his sister’s friends, here's what this fic is ACTUALLY about:, i hear captain marvel is p buff but i never saw her movie :(, i said what i said, i was supposed to be telling u what the fic was about, im a literal child and i dont know about those, peter IS everyone’s child
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-16 09:48:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18689044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldentrivia/pseuds/goldentrivia
Summary: in which james barnes is dead, and the winter soldier lives.





	o wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by that old tumblr "what-if" that's basically like ,, imagine tony stumbling into the kitchen at 3am to make himself a cup of coffee only to get jumpscared by the winter soldier whose arm is broken and hes like......... help.

Tony jerks awake with a snort. There’s a brief moment of fuzziness before he realizes his lab is bathed in pulsing red light, jarring against the electric blue of his screens blinking to life around him. Security measures, as explained by JARVIS’s cool voice. Triggered in response to an intruder.

Paranoia pays off, he thinks. If he weren’t so tired and shaky - he really should be taking better care of himself - he’d probably be more amused.

Because sitting at his kitchen table is the Winter Soldier. Metal arm and red star on full display, illuminated by a thin shaft of moonlight. Tony works his jaw and bites back a curse. He doesn’t have his suit - just the bits and pieces he’d been working on. “I’ll be right there,” he says. “In the meantime, try to figure out what he wants.” He’s out of the room before JARVIS can reply.

He tinkers with the metal as he hikes up the stairs, two at a time (because contrary to popular belief, you need  _ some  _ level of physical fitness to use the suit, and since his little cave vacation he's always spent a respectable amount of time sparring with Happy - but that's way besides the point) until he reaches a floor the elevator has access to. The rest of the ride is smooth. He has the glove on and functional just as the doors slide back with a soft hum.

The floor is darkened but he has JARVIS turn on the lights before his eyes can even adjust. He keeps his hand hanging loosely at his side, careful not to twitch a finger, lest the movement create any noise (mental note: he really needs to work on noiseless models). 

The Soldier is still at the table. It doesn’t look like he’d moved a muscle. From what Tony knows, he probably didn’t. 

In lieu of a cheesy one-liner that might be lost on the audience, he settles on striding into the kitchen with an easygoing grin, perfected in tabloid after tabloid. “How’re the windows, JARVIS?” he says, waiting for the 'all clear' before he leans back on the glass. Having rounded the table and turned around, he can see the state the Soldier is in. Mottled bruises sweeping across his cheekbones and jaw, a couple cuts where the impact broke skin, and the same thousand yard stare from grainy security footage. Handsome, if he weren’t an internationally wanted murderer.

The thought brings a more genuine smile to his lips, accompanied by the ghost of a laugh. The Soldier shifts at that. It’s a minute change, one he would’ve missed had he not been staring. The movement jostles the arm and Tony realizes -  _ oh _ .

The Soldier looks up for the first time, not quite making eye contact but resting somewhere on Tony’s upper face. “It’s broken,” he says. His voice is quiet - not quite accented but not any variation of an American accent Tony has ever heard. He has to strain to hear it, even in the middle of the night. “I don’t know how to fix it,” the Soldier continues.

Tony blinks. “Sure,” he says, before he can even think. “I have a lab -”

He falters. The Winter Soldier is by no means a small man, but something about him seems tiny at those words, in a way that leaves a sour taste in Tony’s mouth. “Alright, no lab,” he says. “I’ll just bring up some tools.”

The Soldier had gone back to staring blankly at the skyline a while ago, but the muscles in his jaw and neck shift at that. Tony takes it as an OK.

They end up working well into the morning. It would’ve been a cleaner job had Tony had the comforts of his lab, but once again, contrary to popular belief, there  _ are  _ limits to his douchebaggery. So he let’s the scuffs and scratches go, considering the arm itself is practically good as new. The Soldier flexes it, and the movement is measured, eased along by an ocean’s worth of machine oil.

“Not bad, huh?” Tony grins, feeling like he’s earned himself the right to joke around. He never expects a response, but it comes anyway.

“Thank you,” the Soldier says, in his low, measured voice. His eyes flicker over Tony’s face. For a second, he looks like he’s about to say something, but it gets buried back under what is presumably decades of programming. He slips out of the kitchen without a word, and Tony slumps back in his chair.

He’s tired. Boneless, practically. He’s a little disappointed.

He’s asleep before he knows it.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry the first one is so short. the next chapters should be clocking in at around 3-5k words but this one probably doesnt even make 1k lmao. in my defense i am Very Tired


End file.
